


Fanning the Flame

by angelprototype



Category: RWBY
Genre: Be gentle, Bees Schnees, Bumbleby - Freeform, F/F, Happy 100 episodes?, Mild Smut, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, PWP, Wtf am I doing writing smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelprototype/pseuds/angelprototype
Summary: "Don't forget about me, now..."Blake's grin is absolutely predatory, "Wouldn't dream of it, Yang."orDrunk Blake gets handsy with Yang and Weiss happens to walk in on it. Sexy times ensue.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna/Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long
Kudos: 34





	Fanning the Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet baby jesus I don't know what I'm doing.. Please be gentle with me on this, yea? What better way to celebrate the 100th episode than with, uh, Bees Schnees? I'm also taking some liberties with Blake's faunus half, i.e. she's more cat-like than in the show. Also the POV jumps a bit bc I wanted to try something new. Hope it's not too confusing.

What in the hell had gotten into her all of a sudden? You barely have time to give it any thought before your back is slammed up against the wall of your bedroom, _hard_. A puff of air escapes you but she greedily steals it for herself, her lips crashing against yours in a demanding yet smooth collision. At first it's reckless, lips carelessly fumbling over yours. She tastes like apples. Must be the sangria. Maybe that's why she's so…sloppy. The ever stoic faunus would never act this hasty, not without some liquid courage.

You yourself start to feel it too, don't you? Your head's buzzing, body igniting wherever those skilled fingers touch. The spark in your gut is starting to build to a roaring flame. You only had about what, two or three beers? Ok maybe five tops. It's not your fault it was 10 lien bottles, right?

Her fingers are in your hair now, nails scraping the scalp in a delicious pattern that makes your pulse dance under your skin. Usually hair touching is a no-no, but it’s _Blake_. Blake can do what she wants, whenever she wants, to you. You throw your head back with an appreciative moan and she takes full advantage of it. Her lips are on your neck in seconds, sucking and nipping and licking and goddess does she have _any_ idea what she does to your body?

With the way you're trembling under her ministrations I'd say she has a pretty good idea.

But it's about time to fight back.

You move, and this time it's her back against the wall, her back arched and hands clutching, her moans slipping past swollen lips. It's music to your ears. Thank whatever gods there be that the usual lycra outfit she wore was replaced with something that made smooth, creamy skin much more accessible. It's your turn to bite and nibble on skin, hips grinding against hers when her hands reach around your backside and claw.

“ _Yang_ …”

You pull back just enough to hum into her ear.

She's panting now, a firm thigh pressed between your legs, arms encircling your neck. Deft fingers bury themselves into your hair again and she pulls, whining softly when you hit a particularly sweet spot just below her ear with your tongue. The sound of her tortured pleasure is almost enough to make you come on the spot. Almost.

“Blake—“

“ _Please_.”

You moan at the amount of desire in that one word. She's begging. The almighty leader of the reformed White Fang is _begging_.

“Please what, kitten.”

She groans. You know what she wants. You know, that _she_ knows, that _you_ know what she wants. But this is too much of a good opportunity to waste.

Instead of voicing her need she roughly slams her mouth to yours, a clash of lips and teeth. She tastes of sweet apple flavored wine and blood. Well damn, the little minx busted your lip in that kiss. She pushes the two of you back, back until you stagger and fall onto the bed; the bed you, Weiss and her normally share.

The thought of the Atlesian makes you hesitate for a split second and the faunus pounces; straddles you, arms suddenly above your head and pinned in one, trembling hand. Her lips are at your ear and you shiver when warm breath tickles your neck.

"Take me, Yang. _Break_ me.”

Oh yea, she's drunk.

“ _Y-a-a-ang,”_ she sing-songs.

You look up into amber eyes gone smoky with lust and your stomach flips. When did she get so damn _sexy_? Sure you're glad to see this new side of her, fuck you _welcome_ it considering how much you've been goading her into this. From teasing and sly remarks and staying _just_ out of reach, making her chase you. Because let's face it, is there anything _hotter_ than the chase?

Oh yea, the booze helped. Must remember to thank FNKI for the night out later.

“What are you thinking about, Yang. I know it's not me…” her lips graze your ear, trace a heated path down your neck to your collarbone where they fasten around your skin and suck, leaving a nice line of bruises on tanned flesh.

“ _Fuck_ , Blake.”

She chuckles, deep and throaty and it vibrates against your chest, makes your body twist and turn under her.

“That's what I had planned, yes.”

Again your mind drifts to the Schnee heiress the two of you are currently attempting to court and how pissed she’s going to be when she realizes you fucked on her 100% linen cooling sheets from Belgium (or some shit like that), but your body could honestly care less right now. The fire that was growing in your gut has already spread lower, lower still as Blake lays herself firmly against you, settles herself between your legs, chest to chest. Your heart, now a tribal drum, beats wildly against your ribs as her hips once again grind against yours in a steady rhythm.

Wet lips went back to working along the smooth skin where shoulder met neck, her body shivering as your hands wander under her shirt, gliding across her back, the other tracing its way around front. She gasps as your thumb brushes across a stiff peak, a low growl in the back of her throat.

She pulls back then, separating only when you begin to lift up her shirt. She reaches down to help, taking trembling hands in her own to guide the material upwards.

“Yang, please.” The shirt goes flying into a corner of the room.

“I’ve got you—“

“Um, _excuse me_?”

Neither of you are aware of the new presence by the door until it's too late. Disoriented and panting you both turn simultaneously. You speak first, somehow finding your voice and not at all ashamed that your half naked partner is still straddling you on your bed.

“Weiss…?!”

“You're doing it again, Xiao Long.” The faunus roughly cups your chin in her palm, turning it so you’re eye to eye once more. “You're not paying attention to me at all. Am I _that_ boring?”

Blake doesn’t wait for an answer as she crashes her lips against yours in a demanding kiss, the hand that held your jaw now slowly trailing lower, giving a firm shove against your sternum. You grunt but it’s quickly swallowed in Blake’s mouth as your back hits the bed. Clearly the faunus didn't care you now had an audience, and truth be told you didn’t really mind either. As long as Blake kept doing what she was doing, Weiss could stand there all day if she so chose…

________

Said heiress watched on with growing eyes and a growing interest. She wasn’t _that_ naive; she knew Blake had a thing for Yang, and vice versa. She knew it in the way the huntress' hard glare would soften when talking to her partner, or the way Blake’s eyes would light up when the two were in a heated yet playful sparring match. No, Weiss was not blind to her friends ever growing affection for one another. She just didn't think it went this deep.

“Weiss.”

Weiss snapped out of her reverie, a hot blush colouring her cheeks when she looked up into smoldering amber eyes. Had she really just been staring at Yang and Blake groping each other?

“ _Weiss_. C’mere.” Blake’s voice was uncharacteristically slurred, Weiss noted.

_Oh my gods, they're trashed. I'm going to kill Katt if I make it out of here alive._

Taking a calming breath the heiress closed her eyes as she slowly willed her legs to move forward, the ragged hisses of expletives followed by Blake’s name making her ears ring. She'd never heard Yang sound so…so… _primal_ outside of battle let alone in the bedroom and it was doing weird things to her stomach.

Satisfied for the moment when Weiss moved towards them, Blake sunk her fingers into Yang's wild mane. Hungrily, the faunus took her bottom lip between her teeth and pulled suggestively, the brawler growling low and writhing in response. She wanted Yang to take her, to _dominate_ her. It was tiring being the strong one, of putting on the emotionless face and bearing it. She wanted to _feel_ god damn it, and one minor interruption wasn't going to change that.

In fact, it might prove to be quite useful…

Yang's hungry, lavender eyes pierced into Weiss as the heiress hesitantly knelt on the bed. Their eyes never left the others, even as Blake pulled back to lay a kiss on the blonde’s brow. Yang blinked, her eyes now on the woman above her.

But Blake turned her attention to the young Schnee, quickly and roughly snatching the girl by the front of her blouse and tugging. With a startled yelp Weiss came tumbling forward, the faunus easily catching her in waiting arms. Tilting her head and leaning in, Blake’s searing lips crashed with Weiss’s to devour her parted ones, Weiss whimpering in return at the growing ache spreading between her legs when Blake’s tongue licked at the inside of her mouth.

Yang watched, transfixed, as the two women she came to love in her life shared a hungry kiss, her own arousal sparking at Weiss’s desperate whines.

________

Weiss’s body felt like a raging inferno. Blake had both her tiny wrists in one hand, the other savagely ripping at the belt around her waist. She had tried to resist at first, wiggling in the faunus’s unrelenting grasp. But when Blake leaned even closer, wet lips pressed to the shell of an ear and huskily whispered, “ _Behave_ , princess. You want this just as much as I do…as much as Yang does,” the girl whimpered piteously and surrendered to the torturous pleasure. Because yes, she wanted, _needed_ this so desperately.

“T-there's a distinct line between—“ Weiss yelped as Blake’s teeth started to work at her pulse point, tongue flickering over the twitching skin, “—between want and need.”

Blake pulled back just enough to let her breath skim mere inches from her lips, so much so that Weiss could practically taste the alcohol lingering there. “Yea…and you _need_ this.”

Answering with nothing but a whine Weiss tangled slim fingers into midnight tresses, holding the former thief firmly in place as she fiercely worked at her neck and shoulder. Blake knows exactly what she wants to do to Weiss… To pin her down and worship every inch of pale skin. To bite and suck and mark the heiress as her own as some sort of sick revenge against the SDC and Jacques Schnee. To use teeth and nails, feel her hot and slick and clenching around her fingers.

She wants Weiss panting and moaning her name.

The younger woman gasps and arches into Blake’s heated body, eyes straying to find Yang’s, now deep crimson, stare locked onto her. The brawler bites at her lower lip at the display before her, hand sliding down to undo her own jeans and stifles a moan when Weiss finally closes her eyes and gives into the faunus’ vigorous ministrations with a content sigh.

“Good girl.” Blake purrs into her ear, and Weiss shudders. With a gentle shove Weiss was suddenly on her back next to Yang. “You're ok with a little variety, right Weiss?” The faunus gives an uncharacteristic grin as she climbs atop the Atlesian on all fours, “I won’t lie. Yang and I have been trying to figure out how to invite you into our bed for _weeks_ now.” Deft fingers trace a searing trail up the girl's thigh, stopping just when she feels the uneven pattern of lace.

Blake’s grin widens. “Why am I not surprised you’re wearing lace panties?”

Weiss, cheeks a shade brighter than their leader’s cloak, slips a shaky hand around Blake’s neck and tugs her down, a full pout on pink lips. “Thong…” She was already squirming and the cat faunus had yet to really touch her. “Not ‘panties’.”

Blake blinks, pauses, but it’s Yang who reacts to that bit of information with a snort.

“No wonder you’re always so cranky. Thongs literally ride up your ass all day.”

“Fuck _off_ , Yang.”

The blonde throws her an infuriating wink and lifts her hips to shimmy out of her skinny jeans. “You first, princess.”

Blake’s forehead is still resting against Weiss’s, damp bangs tickling her lashes. Her lips brush against the Atlesian’s cheek when she scolds the brawler, “Yang, make yourself useful and help me make Weiss more comfortable, won’t you?”

“What does tha—“ Weiss is cut off when Blake leans forward, swallowing the question from her lips. Yang doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and positioning herself behind their ice princess, hands slipping underneath the stupidly expensive silk blouse, crawling up, up, until they rest on the underside of her breasts. Weiss breaks the kiss with a low hiss, chest arching up and into Blake as Yang teases from behind.

Weiss begins to sweat, heartbeat stuttering in her chest at the dual assault. “W-wait…”

Blake’s hands slide under the blouse to meet with Yang’s and together they carefully lift it up and over the younger woman’s head. “No more waiting, Weiss.” Her eyes meet her partners over the heiress’ shoulder and Yang leans forward, her bare front against Weiss’s back to give a quick kiss to Blake. With a reassuring smile she scoots back to prop some pillows behind her, laying back and slowly taking a confused Weiss by the hips and back with her. Weiss initially jumps at the frigid coolness of Yang’s mechanical arm but welcomes it against her heated flesh.

Now snug in Yang’s protective embrace from behind, her eyes train on Blake’s subtle movements in front of her. Weiss tilts her head slightly, watching the way her shoulder’s bunch and relax as she positions herself between Weiss’s legs with the grace of a cat. And when Blake hooks her fingers around the top of her skirt to pull it down, Weiss readily assists, lifting trembling hips. She takes a sharp inhale when the sudden cool air of the bedroom rushes against the wetness between her legs.

Blake, in all of her stealth, slipped off her ruined underwear with the skirt.

And Weiss cannot believe how incredibly wet and ready she is for this; with Yang’s semblance-warm body at her back, calloused fingers gently kneading a hip while the cool metal of her other hand massages her right breast under a too tight bra. It’s easy to slide her hands around Weiss’s back, to the clasp that unfastens it, and draw the garment down her arms and fling it away.

Blake wastes no time in bringing her mouth to now freed breasts. Weiss arches her chest into Blake’s greedy mouth, giving her all the access she could ask for. Her hands hold herself steady against the faunus’ shoulders, and she falls into the sensation of Blake’s cat-like tongue on her, of lips and teeth and heat that Blake burns straight into her skin.

When Blake takes a nipple into her mouth, it’s all Weiss can do not to cry.

________

Weiss’s body is on overload, you can feel it.

“Please, please,” she gasps out, leaning her dampening forehead against Blake’s. “Fuck! I need—” to hear the pristine Weiss Schnee curse in any other situation normally makes you laugh out loud, mainly because it’s usually at some tight wad CEO that’s giving her hell. But to hear her curse while getting fucked by your partner while squirming against your chest, however, causes your throat to dry and thighs to uselessly clench.

Weiss’s hips stutter as the tips of two fingers press against her entrance, teasing. This close together you can see Blake’s grin, falsely demure as she continues to toy with the heiress. “What do you need? Use your words, Princess.” She cups the back of Weiss’s neck, toying with the fine hairs there. Your hands haven’t stopped their somewhat rough handling of Weiss’s breasts, but you take a moment to lean closer to Blake’s finger’s by the Atlesian’s neck to playfully nip at them, and your efforts are rewarded with a soft sigh from your partner.

The jibe doesn't stop the heiress from grinding down against Blake’s still hand, even as the blush painting her cheeks spreads down her neck and clavicle, threatening to catch fire. “I need...” she swallows, pride waging a losing war against built up desire, “Need you inside—”

“You sound just like Yang when she begs.”

________

She cries out when Blake finally, almost roughly pushes her fingers inside and curls them just so. Weiss buries her face into Blake’s shoulder as she moans loudly. She barely makes out the low chuckle from the faunus as she trembles and rides on the fingers hitting all the right spots. Just a bit more is all she needs, she’s so fucking close already.

Suddenly there are sharp teeth right at the junction of her shoulder just as Blake slips another finger inside and Weiss groans, loud and filthy. Everything becomes too much, too fast. She moans again as every muscle in her body locks and shudders, Blake’s rhythm slowing to ease the heiress through her high until finally Weiss goes limp against Yang, breathless and hazy.

________

The ache between your legs is borderline painful, but you _need_ to have Blake. After gently, almost reverently laying a spent Weiss on a down of pillows and blankets it’s your turn.

“Don't forget about me, now.” You snake your arms around a distracted faunus, hands brushing the underside of each breast. She sucks in a harsh breath, body unintentionally arching into yours, a low moan slipping past parted lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Yang.”

The way your name falls from her lips makes your insides clench around nothing, another testament to how close you already are without even having hands on you. But you’re nothing if not a giver, and you plan to give Blake everything. 

“Don’t you fucking tease me now…” she warns and you chuckle.

“Oh? Like you needlessly teased the ice princess over there?”

Blake huffs, her backside grinding against your crotch in a delicious promise. “She _did_ need it. She’s always so in control. It was time someone showed her differently.”

“Uh huh…” You whisper into her hair before trailing lips to her neck. Her hands fumble their way behind her to your hips, grip clenching and unclenching in anticipation as your fingers work their way under the thin, damp cotton between her legs.

Blake groans and you match it with one of your own your when your fingers finally, _finally_ slide through wet heat. “By the gods, Blake.” You breathe.

She chuckles despite herself. “That’s entirely your fau— _shit_ …” The words stick in her throat when you move, fingers curling, pushing, before sliding out and repeating the motion. Blake growls and your hips jerk against her backside at the sound.

You know what she wants, you’ve both been here before. You found out through experimentation that Blake liked to bite, a quirk of her faunus blood, which worked out just fine for you. You rather enjoyed it. Heedless of her moan as you pull out you quickly spin her ‘round before plunging back in easily, roughly, mouth sloppily muffling the keening whine in her throat.

“Do it, Blake.” You husk, letting your teeth graze over her ear. 

The response is instant.

A loud whine precipitated an even louder growl as Blake unclenches her jaw and punctures the bend in your neck with sharp canines.

Your grip around her waist tightens as pain shoots through your shoulder, lasting only seconds before your grunts of discomfort turn more guttural as your body is overcome by a dizzying rush spreading heavenly heat up your spine. You hadn't thought it possible, but your already tightly coiled body experiences another wave of almost crippling arousal, the moan in the back of your throat spilling past parched lips.

Blake clings to you and your attention snaps back to your writhing partner as you purposefully begin moving fingers again. She has one hand clawing between shoulder blades, the other hooked onto a taut ass cheek, attempting to draw you even deeper inside. She is relentless and all consuming, and fuck if you don’t want more. It’s as though you’re being stripped down to absolute nothing, swallowed whole.

All there is, is Blake. Around you, against you, clenched so tight around your fingers. It’s terrifying yet liberating all in the same breath. You love her and in turn know she loves you, you can feel it; taste it in her kisses, smell it in the air whenever the faunus walks into a room. Even more frightening was now Weiss has become apart of that love, the three of you finally giving in to one another feeling like a weight you didn’t know was there has come off your chest.

But that was ok. It was ok to finally—

“Let go,” your breath is hot and sultry against Blake’s flattened faunus ear. The resulting climax crashes through her without mercy, and though Blake had removed her fangs, she didn't stop those glorious hips from rolling against yours as she licks over the wound at your neck with her own breathy, rasping moan. The feel of her dripping down your fingers, pulsing, her groans loud in your ear combined with her grinding hips is the last bit of friction you need, causes your own resolve to break, and you come with a silent cry, body going rigid.

________

Spent, sweaty and absolutely giddy you fall back onto the bed, Blake landing on your chest with a soft “ _Oof! Yang_ ,” she admonishes. Her body gone fluid and jittery with aftershocks, you pull her close, kiss the top of her head and breathe in Blake’s heady scent of sex and spice that’s uniquely her. With a final, shuddering sigh the faunus flashes a hundred watt smile, her voice barely above a whisper that you nearly miss the “I love you,” she purrs, tucking herself under your chin.

Your brain hiccups and you blink down at the head of hair under your lips.“I’m sorry…what?”

Blake lets out another heaving sigh and chuckles. “You heard me.” She shifts from your arms to lean back and look at you, _really_ look at you. “I love you, Yang Xiao Long.”

You blush hotly, blinking like someone just slapped you across the face and stutter out an, “I…uh…”

Blake’s giggling dies down and her gaze turns absolutely predatory again. “Y’know what? We’ll talk about it later.” Her voice has lowered to that just-been-fucked husk that makes your stomach tighten and you’re suddenly hyper aware of how beautiful she looks with hair and makeup mussed. “It’s time to wake up Weiss for round two.”

With a laugh you twist to your side with some difficulty, because why would Blake get off your lap, to gently nudge a slowly rousing Weiss. She grunts, swatting at your hand lazily.

“Round two? Already?” Her voice is hoarse but nonetheless alert.

The fingers of your mechanical hand gently card through her bangs. “Oh, Weissy. We _definitely_ need to work on your stamina if this relationship is going to work.”

Blake laughs. Weiss groans.


End file.
